


Marked

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Danny pays Martin a visit.
Relationships: Martin Fitzgerald/Danny Taylor
Kudos: 5





	Marked

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

He thought for sure this would be a temporary thing. Something to defy his father, make his own mark, and then he'd move on. He never intended to stay this long. He never intended on making friends and actually liking his coworkers. And he certainly never intended to fall for his partner.

The worst part is, he thinks maybe, just maybe, his feelings are reciprocated. Despite what people assume, he's actually fairly observant. He sees the way Sam looks at Jack. He sees the way Jack hovers near her. He sees that Vivian knows far more then she lets on. He also sees the heated glances Danny tosses his way when he thinks no one's watching.

And he's pretty sure Danny's starting to clue in that he's looking back.

So really, he shouldn't be all that surprised. He should have seen this coming. Should have been able to avoid it. Because really, this is the last thing he needs.

As if things weren't complicated enough, he doesn't care.

He knows, -knows- he shouldn't allow this. Knows it'll affect work, their friendship, the team. He knows, and he doesn't care.

Because right now, all he –can- care about is how wonderful Danny's body feels pinning him against his door. How incredibly soft and firm Danny's lips feel pressed against his own. How talented Danny is with his tongue, and how –very- curious he is to know exactly what other hidden talents Danny has.

He doesn't even care that he hasn't relocked the deadbolt, or that his lights are still on, running up his electricity bill. He doesn't care because Danny's pushing him back into the bedroom, and by some miracle, his hands have managed to find skin.

"I thought I had you figured out, but this, this took me by surprise Martin," Danny mumbles around their kiss.

He should've figured Danny was a talker. He never shuts up, why should he start now? He doesn't bother reminding Danny whose apartment this is. Who showed up at whose door, and who initiated the kiss. None of that matters because his knees have hit the back of the bed and Danny's sprawled on top of him.

And damn if the feel of Danny's erection pressing against his own isn't the best thing he's ever experienced.

"Too many clothes," he manages, tugging at Danny's jacket. Of course he'd show up in a suit and tie.

Danny mumbles something he can only assume is agreement before pulling back, shedding his coat and shirt. And suddenly, he's glad he left the lights on. He wants to see this, wants nothing to impede his view, not even darkness. Because the sight of shirtless Danny is something he wants to commit to memory. And isn't that going to make working with him –that- much more difficult.

Not that it matters.

Nothing matters now, except that Danny's kissing him again and all he can think of is how amazing Danny's skin feels beneath his fingers.

It doesn't even occur to him that he's still dressed, not until Danny begins tugging at his shirt, growling slightly in frustration. He's tempted to leave the shirt on, if only for the opportunity to hear Danny make that noise again. The lure of skin to skin wins out and his shirt hits the floor with a thud, followed closely by his jeans and Danny's dress slacks.

And damn the sight of Danny in boxer shorts is something to behold. Not that he expected anything less. But even the nightly fantasies that leave him breathless and shaking haven't prepared him for this.

He's staring, something he's done all too often these past few months. But now Danny knows exactly what that stare means, and he has the nerve to smirk, like he expected nothing less.

"Like what you see Fitzy?" Danny all but gloats.

"Not yet," Martin comments, as offhand as he can given his current physical state.

He wasn't expecting this. This easiness that he associates with working with Danny. He expected heat, pent up desire, but not light banter, and certainly not Danny's amused grin as his pushes his boxers over his hips and onto the floor.

Even though some far off part of his brain tells him he knew Danny would be playful, it still takes him by surprise. So much so he doesn't notice Danny kissing a path down his chest, over his stomach. Doesn't notice until Danny begins nipping at him, leaving tiny teeth marks on his skin.

He's a marked man now. It somehow seems fitting and in that moment he contemplates getting tattooed. Property of Danny Taylor has a nice ring to it.

He realizes he's being left out of the fun and deftly flips Danny onto his back, grinning at his surprise. Danny wasn't expecting Martin to take control. He takes his time, his fingers memorizing ever inch of Danny's body. He notes every spot that makes Danny moan, every pressure that causes the other man to arch into him, every place that shivers beneath his touch.

And God help him, he wants more. He craves it.

Of course Danny isn't helping, splayed across his pillows, thrusting into his thigh, running his hands down Martin's back, across his ass. It's too much, gone is the leisurely pace, replaced by frantic kissing, hands everywhere, tongues intertwined, so much heat.

"Off," Danny commands, pulling at Martin's briefs, his words barely coherent.

He obliges, knowing in that moment he'd do anything for Danny. Stripping off the last barrier of clothing seems a small thing. He wonders if he'll ever be able to work next to Danny without visualizing this moment. He's not sure that's entirely a bad thing.

The feel of Danny's hand wrapping around his cock nearly does him in. He growls low in his throat, thrusting into Danny's hand. Shuddering with violent intensity, he leans down, capturing Danny in another kiss. He's certain now Danny will be his undoing.

"Protection?" Danny pants between kisses.

"Yeah, hold on…" Martin answers, breaking away long enough to open the drawer on his night side table and retrieve a condom and lubrication.

He has to pause then, take in Danny's appearance, his dilated pupils, his flushed skin, his erratic breathing. Another image committed to memory. He's half afraid he'll forget how to use his gun the next time he needs to pull it. Certainly he'll have to forfeit something to take the new knowledge in. Somehow knowing exactly what Danny looks like moments before sex seems –far- more important than anything else.

The sound of Danny mewing breaks him out of his trance. He tears into the foil wrapper, loving the shuddering breath Danny takes as he sheaths the condom over him. Tingling in anticipation as he watches Danny buck against him as he applies the lube.

He likes this, Danny on his back, his eyes boring into Martin's soul, touching him in places he closed off years ago. The feel of Danny's legs between his knees as he angles his hips, positioning the other man at his opening. The incredible sensation of Danny sliding into him, filling him, stretching him.

He likes it so much, he withdrawals, nearly all the way before slamming back down. Hard. Again.

The pace seems to frustrate Danny. Enough that he somehow manages to flip them, reversing their position and allowing Danny to fuck Martin in earnest. Not that Martin's complaining.

Because the feel of Danny pounding into him is better than he imagined. The expression of pure lust, pure ecstasy written on Danny's face is breathtaking. He doesn't think –anything- can be better than this. Danny proves him wrong by taking his cock in hand, pumping in time to his trusts.

If he wasn't so far gone, he's certain he'd be making a mental note to call Webster's and have them redefined bliss.

"Danny, I'm….Oh God, so close…."he practically chants.

Danny's body tenses in reply, shuddering as his orgasm tears through him. The sight is his undoing, he comes in Danny's hand, wetness spilling onto his stomach.

"God," Danny breathes, falling back onto his knees, his body slumping forward.

He watches Danny withdrawal, his eyes following him to the bathroom. He returns moments later, washcloth in hand. He allows Danny to clean them up, smiling at his tenderness.

"You should come over more often," he comments, settling back into the bed.

"I think that idea's doable," Danny replies, pulling the duvet over them.

It occurs to Martin, moments before he falls asleep, that he forgot to turn off the lights.


End file.
